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Fucking terrified.
I was pregnant as fuck, without a weapon, in a house alone with the man who had punched me in the face the last time we were alone together.
I was not the same woman I was then, but I was also smart enough to understand I was at a serious disadvantage.
“Yourhusband,” he repeated, smacking his lips. He was speaking quietly, standing still. Too fucking still.
I knew this energy. My body had learned to be afraid of this energy, to know that pain was coming soon after.
Emmet glanced around the kitchen, his eyes falling on the framed photo from our wedding day that Nora had sent me and I’d had printed a few weeks ago. It was us, kissing. My dress was a burst of red, Kip’s hands were clutching my body, and it seemed laughable to think that we were ever going to be able to keep our hands off each other.
Emmet’s icy gaze returned to me, and my stomach clenched.
“Yourhusbandis the reason I lost my business, my wife, and was almost put in fucking prison,” he spat, fury leeching into his tone.
I blinked in surprise. Had Kip done that? I couldn’t be sure. But I knew the look on his face when he’d found out about my past. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d flown across the world to kill Emmet.
He didn’t do that.
Luckily.
I didn’t want Kip to do that for me.
This kind of thing didn’t seem to measure up with what Kip would do. I didn’t know if he even had the kind of connections to make something like this happen. But I couldn’t rule it out either. Kip was full of surprises.
I pulled my shoulders back and met Emmet’s eyes with defiance. “I’m sureyou’rethe reason you lost your business, your wife, and almost went to prison,” I shot back, sounding a lot more confident and unafraid than I really was. “Karma works slow sometimes, but it fucking works.” I tilted my head, regarding him. “But if it really worked, you’d be flattened by a bus or something, living your afterlife out as a dung beetle.”
“You mouthy bitch,” he snarled.
Okay, as good as that had felt, I’d momentarily lapsed into old patterns. Pre-pregnancy Fiona. Who could mouth off to assholes known to be violent because she could take care of herself.
Pre-pregnancy Fiona was not afraid of a beating.
Because it was just me.
But now it wasn’t just me.
I placed my hand on my stomach.
A mistake.
Emmet’s gaze went there. “That is my baby.” He pointed to my stomach. “You were meant to give me a baby.”
Panic seized my spine at the ownership in my voice. Not just panic. Fury. Absolute raw anger to think he could claim possession over my body, then or now. “I wasn’t meant to give you anything, asshole,” I spat. “I have never and will never belong to you.”
He moved quicker than I’d expected him to.
I figured he’d move eventually—obviously he wasn’t here for a cup of tea and some biscuits to catch up on old times. His motives were malevolent. But I’d been planning on stalling him, hoping Kip might burst through the door. Or Calliope. Either of them would wipe the floor with my asshole ex.
Not a very solid plan, but my options were limited. I didn’t have any weapons within reach, he was standing between me and the front door, and I still had no idea where my fucking phone was. I was little more than defenseless, but I didn’t want to act like it. Fake it till you make it and all that.
I moved, too, but slower than I regularly would. So, he managed to grab a hold of my hair and attempt to slam my face into the countertop.
This time, I didn’t have a delayed reaction. My survival instinct finally kicked in, and I let the rage at this asshole flow through my veins.
I threw my weight backward so I missed the countertop and slammed into his body. I whirled, wincing at the pain in my side from the rapid movement, and didn’t hesitate to slam my knee right into his balls, satisfied with his groan of pain and the way he crumpled to the floor.
There was a hiss and another groan of pain from Emmet, and I looked to find Boo on the ground, swiping at him with her paws until he sent her flying with one arm gesture.
